


the ones that love us never really leave us

by ahana



Series: For Marta [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, SKAM (TV)
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter AU, M/M, Post Battle of Hogwarts, Prompt: "Post War Kiss", Ravenclaw Even, Slytherin Isak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:36:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13077972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahana/pseuds/ahana
Summary: Isak and Even. The Battle of Hogwarts, c. 1998.





	the ones that love us never really leave us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vorfm95](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vorfm95/gifts).



> Marta, you are so talented and wonderful! It's been so great getting to know you on discord! I hope you really like this. Merry Christmas <3 
> 
> If it wasn’t clear, I did make Isak a Slytherin and Even a Ravenclaw! I know their houses aren’t mentioned much, but that’s because I figured that’s probably the last thing on their minds.  
> Title is from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. 
> 
> TW: Isak gets a teensy bit violent in his descriptions; mentions of blood; swearing.

Isak’s heart was going to explode.

 

All around him gleeful cheers erupted as Magnus stood towering over the last death eater’s body. His wand stood eerily still in his right hand, as if he was waiting for the death eater to come back to life and fight him again. Isak wouldn’t put it past them. He warily eyed the jagged body of the death eater, watching how the limbs were twisted in odd directions from the force of Magnus’s Protego charm. The body lay on top of the fallen bricks of the Octagon Tower’s right walls. Magnus’s hands shook until Vilde came over to wrap her arms around his stiff shoulders, pulling him away from the body of Aadolf Bell.

 

Hugs were exchanged as lovers cried on each other’s shoulders, siblings ruffled each other’s hair and friends joined group hugs all across the Great Hall. With Magnus casting the last charm of the war, the Battle of Hogwarts was finally over. And yet, all Isak wanted to do was cry.

 

He couldn’t find Even.

 

Even had been with Isak as they made their way up the Grand Staircase, rushing towards where Magnus had called them for back up in the Octagon Tower. Magnus and Yousef were scuffling with two death eaters, who had somehow found an entrance through the large windows that lined the base walls above the Potions classroom. Isak and Even were running past the crowds of the wounded when Even saw Mikael crying in pain as he struggled to get to his feet, a long gash running along the extent of his left thigh. Isak couldn’t afford to stop, Magnus’s pleas for help still echoing in his head, but Even kissed him quick and sweet as he left to help Mikael get to Madam Pomfrey.

 

Isak thought they had come to an unspoken agreement earlier that they would never separate during the rest of the battle. He still remembered Even’s kiss in the Great Hall, as Hannah Abbott pushed a rather large cup of blood-replenishing potion towards him. Even had gone to release the creatures in the far east stables, leaving Isak to fight in the battle. What he came back to was Isak lying on a white bedspread with blood oozing out of his left arm. The taut expression of his face and the tears brimming in his eyes had made Isak think it would probably be the last time he would leave Isak unsupervised in the next twenty years.

 

Someone made fireworks erupt behind him, bringing Isak back to the present where he stood still standing over Aadolf Bell’s remains. Teary faces with smiles turned towards him as they watched the lights and sparkles over his head. Isak turned his head all around to sweep the room for any sign of Even’s trademark jean jacket, blonde hair that somehow remains perfect in the midst of a war or even a slither of a blue tie that could indicate that Even made it back to Isak.

 

Nothing.

 

Isak saw nothing.

 

A part of Isak began to break, the shatter echoing within him. He was crying without a second thought, breath stuttering and tears running down his cheeks as unwanted flashes of black and gray swam past his eyes showing him saying goodbye to the one person who he should never have had to.

 

Where was Even? Was he okay? Was he hurt? Who did Isak need to hunt down? Because he would. He would _kill_ the bastard that touched one perfect strand of hair on Even’s head. He would slash and stab and _murder_ the bloody son of a bitch that took a wrong step in Even’s direction. He would lash out until there was nothing remaining but dust and ash in his wake. He would –

 

“Isak!”

 

Isak startled out of his thoughts at the sound of Yousef yelling in his face. He could feel his chest heaving and eyebrows furrowed in a deep scowl. He focused his eyes to see Yousef standing in front of him, dirt and soot lining every feature of his face. Yousef waved his wand hand in front of Isak’s eyes wildly as if to test if Isak was still lost in his murder fantasies.

 

“Isak! Even’s looking for you!”

 

Isak instantly centered on Yousef’s words, his heart leaping out of the deep confines where it had locked itself in misery.

 

“Even?” He asked, softly.

 

“Yeah, man. He’s in the Great Hall with Mikael and Mahdi. Mikael got hurt when Carrow used the – Hey! Isak!”

           

Isak didn’t even bother replying, or even listening to the rest of Yousef’s updates, as he dashed out of the tower in the blink of an eye. He walked quickly, not trusting his feet to run across the rubble and fallen pieces of his home. He passed Flitwick and a bunch of Hufflepuffs trying to restore some of the classrooms so they could create more place for the wounded. Bricks floated around Isak, slotting into place with a neat _schk_. Stones crunched under his feet, dust rising around him and falling onto his dirty green sweater.

 

Isak passed by Jonas and Noora helping Eva clean her bruises in one of the first-floor corridors and another unnerved part of him, a part he hadn’t even acknowledged, settled in his heart. He quickly discerned that none of them had any major injuries and let out a sigh of relief when he realized they were okay. Minor injuries littered their body of course, but it was nothing he hadn’t known about before. Jonas still walked differently from his fight with a werewolf earlier, but he should be fine with some Wolfsbane potion. The werewolf hadn’t bit him, but the potion would relieve any other symptoms and Isak couldn’t hope for anything more. He made a mental note to fetch Jonas a batch later.

 

He nodded when he caught Noora’s eye and she smiled at him, a dim one but it was there. Hope.

 

Isak walked faster as he approached the Great Hall. He could hear the commotion from inside as healers rushed about, sending flying potions and muttering spells as they circled from person to person. When he walked inside, the hall he had known since he was eleven looked like everything his worst nightmares were made of. Shattered walls from the force of blast spells and falling pieces of the enchanted ceiling became his new reality, and it took everything Isak had inside him to keep moving.

 

His eyes swept the expanse of the hall, looking for the tall and lanky body of his boyfriend. He walked towards the center of the room, eyeing the bodies lying at Madam Pomfrey’s feet and praying to a being he doesn’t believe in that Even was not among them. When he realized they’re all dark-haired, he turned back around to continue his survey of the room. Isak saw Sana and Elias hug each other tightly in the corner, their mother crying as she held on fiercely to their shoulders. Elias clutched Sana’s robes and rested his head on her shoulder as she latched onto his neck. Even from a distance, Isak could see how torn up the family was about Elias’s broken leg, caused by his short fight with Alecto Carrow. The damage to the leg was permanent, Isak could tell all the way from here, but Elias would be fine. He’d be okay if –

 

Suddenly, he heard a familiar sniffle behind him. Isak turned around so fast he was sure he gave himself whiplash, but in the face of Even’s bright blue _blue_ eyes and pink cheeks, Isak couldn’t find himself to care about a possibly injured neck.

 

Because there he was.

 

Even stood two feet away from him, dried blood lining the corners of his face. A large gash ran across his forehead, cutting into the crook of his right eye. His lips hung open, billowy breaths leaving them quickly and quietly. His right hand wrapped itself around his oak wand stiffly, vein nearly popping from the sheer strength. Even’s blue tie had come undone, hanging loosely around his neck. His sweater was cut in several places, threads unspooling and fluttering in the wind. Isak’s eyes traveled down to Even’s legs and he had to suppress a fond laugh. Even was missing his shoes, the bright blue socks that Isak always teased him about were visible. Dirt clinged tightly onto his body, covering nearly every surface of Even, except for blue eyes. Eyes that were looking at him with fear and hurt and pain and –

 

Isak couldn’t take this.

 

He ran forward, nearly tripping over the rubble in front of him. On impulse, Even reached for Isak with his arms stretched and Isak stumbled right into them.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Isak didn’t let him speak any further. He brought his hands around Even’s neck, pulling him towards himself tightly. He burrowed his head in Even’s neck, nuzzling the soft pale skin there. Even with all the sweat and dirt and blood, Even still smelled like he always did. A smell that grounded Isak in Even’s arms and brought him home. The walls of his home may be rubble but it lives in this man whose arms run across Isak’s back and lips that kiss across tiny patches of his neck. Even tries to pull away from the embrace, with a kiss under his ear but Isak doesn’t let him. Isak can’t bear to open his eyes right now, not when the world’s been pulled down to hospital beds and explosions. He burrows further into Even’s neck, as if that was possible, and Even’s hand comes around to cup his head. His long fingers card through Isak’s messy curls, the sensation of their pads digging into his scalp is enough for Isak to let out a small moan.

 

Even’s okay. He’s okay.

 

He pulls back this time, letting Even’s hands fall to his waist as his own still circle Even’s neck. Their foreheads touch, the ends of their noses bop against each other with every breath they inhale together, and Isak has never felt more alive than in this moment. He stares at Even slightly cross eyed, takes in the clear blue of his irises and lets out a broken laugh.

 

Even’s okay.

 

“Kiss me,” Isak mutters.

 

“Isak, baby, you’re bleeding,” Even says, running his thumb across the cut on Isak’s lower lip.

 

“I don’t fucking care, Even,” Isak chuckles, feeling like it was torn out of him, “Just kiss me, please.”

 

And there – amidst the yells for ointments, elated screams of reunions, fireworks flaring and broken buildings crumbling – Even kissed Isak like he had never done so before. Pink lips touched his own so softly, like Isak was made of glass and was cracked all over. The kiss threw Isak off balance. His lips didn't move, at first. His eyes fluttered shut as Even’s lips did all the work, pushing against his mouth and pulling everything that makes him _Isak_ out of him. He felt real.

 

Slowly his lips stirred on their own accord, in sync with Even’s. He'd done this a million times, every move instinctual. Those lips weren't new to him. They were familiar, they were old, they were his, and they were alive. Delicate hands framed Isak’s shoulders, his brain feeling empty and light, like it was floating along with the lights of the sky. All he knew were Even’s feather like lips against his own. Isak’s stomach felt wobbly, like it was about to fall from a great height. He was stuck in a trance that involved Even’s mouth and Even’s hands on his cheeks and Even’s legs against his own and Even’s hair falling into his eyes and Even and Even and –

_Even._

 

Shivers, light and bright, coursed through Isak’s veins; every nook and cranny of his body tingling with the sensation of being alive and being surrounded by the feeling of _Even_. Even, who slowly draws away from Isak’s used lips. Isak feels himself bending forward until a hand comes up to hold him firmly in place. His eyes flit open and, under blurry clouds, he sees Even’s face nearly an inch from his own. Used lips marred pink and lush, hair in disarray and broad chest heaving brokenly. His eyes are locked on Isak’s, not once blinking.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love _you_.”


End file.
